Hold onto this lullaby
by Insert a Catchy Penname Here
Summary: So wipe your tears away, and close your eyes. And until the morning light, hold onto the lullaby...
1. Introduction: Fear

Hold onto this lullaby

Author Note: I got inspired for this one-shot because I've had a pretty hard day today. And now I'll shall express happiness in writing to make everyone happy :D

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"…too young,"

"Don't worry them more than they already are…."

"…not safe…."

Jacqueline's dark blue eyes moved to the dirt flooring of their small, one-bedroom home. She was supposed to be asleep right now, but her parents were talking about things they thought that she shouldn't hear. While it was true she probably didn't, she also felt like at eight years of age, she should be allowed to hear more and not just hide behind closed doors. Hadn't she proven she could handle the world around them yet?

Her parents called what they just came out of the Dark Days, and she agreed with the name. The lights were almost always out, and the pretty blue sky was constantly hidden by bomb smoke and planes that belonged to the 'rebels'. But the Capitol had won, and from what she could make out from standing in front of the door with it slightly cracked so only the tiniest bit of candlelight from the living room peeked in, they were talking about it with worry.

They mentioned something about a Hunger Games, and she blinked a couple of times. They sounded so scared and worried and angry…but they were games. And games were fun, even if you lost. So why was her mommy crying and her daddy kicking the dust up, looking real, real angry?

"They won't be safe the second they turn twelve…." Her mother wailed, and the young girl who was up past her bedtime resisted the urge to run to her, to cling to her neck and tell it was okay.

She said 'they'. Did she mean her and Auburn? Why wouldn't they be safe in a game? The eight-year-old blonde was quite confused at this point, and she risked peeking the door more so she could hear a little better.

"And as soon as they turn eighteen they'll be safe…from that," her father punched the wall so hard, it left an imprint in the dirt covering the rock underneath. The child's eyes widened at this action, slinking back and starting to shut the door completely to avoid her parents' distress, deciding she _really _didn't need to hear or see this.

But this caused the door to squeak, and both of their eyes turned directly on her. She bit her lower lip, scrambling back under the thin little sheet on their one bed and pressing herself to Auburn for protection. None the less, her mother entered the room quietly, scooping her up and stirring a slight moan from the other sleeping little girl. But she ignored it as she carried back the older child to the only other room in their house, the main room.

The inside of their house was somewhat depressing and _very_ dusty, and the only piece of decoration was a large cotton rug her grandmother made for them before she died. It was warm and fluffy red, and young Jacqueline loved to drag it outside at night and lay under the stars, trying to find shooting ones. Of course, this was before now…and certainly before the Dark Days.

Now her mother sat her on this rug, sitting beside her with her legs crossed with her father. She looked at both of them in turn with cautious, somewhat fearful child eyes, knowing she'd been doing something she wasn't supposed to and gotten caught. She felt instantly guilty, like any child would, but also guilty because she knew it was sin, and her family was strongly Christian.

"I'm sorry…" her lower lip jutted out a bit, and her mother could only brush her blonde bangs out of face and pull her close, signaling forgiveness.

When they pulled back, the young girl noted how she looked nothing like her parents. Her mother's hair was dark brown and her skin was mixed, and her eyes were brown like warm chocolate. Her ribs poked out from her shirts because she had always been underfed, but her face was as clear and shining as clear water, describing her only as beautiful.

Her father was also mixed with a short dark brown hair he kept shaved close to his scalp, and his eyes were older, wiser, and light brown. He was handsome, but he was also clad in many scars and bruises from all his years of working and growing up poor. Then again….they _were _from District 11.

She was one of the few that were actually blonde in the District. She had no idea why, but it was silky like and somewhat manageable, despite the fact she was tender-headed. She was severely skinny, since her family was so unlucky, but she didn't really mind. She was one who would work with a smile on her face, one who gave others hope and closed up her sadness and emotion deep inside her gut. And she didn't mind doing it at all, because she was the type that thought of everyone else and God first.

"Honey….it's all going to be alright," somehow her mother didn't sound too convincing now, though, with her eyes red and puffy from her previously hysterical tears, "you are going to be safe and sound and nothing will hurt you. Your father and I will not let it happen to you, Jacqueline."

They only used her full name when they wanted her to listen real hard, and the small child nodded once, her face stony and serious, before she looked to her father, who was now speaking, "That's right. We won't let anything happen to our little girls."

In sync, they hugged each other, nestling her between them. She squirmed a little so that their chins rested on the top of her head, letting her arms and face hang out of their grasp as she rested her head on her mother's shoulder. She loved being between them, to be assured though things were getting tough, nothing bad was going to happen to her.

That's when the eight-year-old girl caught sight of tangled auburn hair and wide brown eyes disappearing from the doorframe. She frowned, the faint smile on her face of serenity dying instantly.

"Auburn?" she called softly, wriggling free of her parents and going into the bedroom, moving swiftly in quick strides that was her natural pace, making her feet look as if they weren't touching the ground.

She caught sight of a white sock vanishing underneath the bed edge, and she got on her belly easily, peering after the younger. The sounds of soft sniffles was heard in the darkness, and she reached under, feeling for her hand and achieving it after a moment.

"Auburn? What's wrong?" her voice was full of concern, "did you have another nightmare?"

"U-u-uh-h-huh," a sob was muffled behind her free hand, or so Jacqueline figured, "your p-parents don't lo-love me. M-my nightm-mare was right."

"Oh….that's not right," her voice was low and soothing, like her father's, "I need you to come out now, alright? I think someone needs a hug."

Slowly but surely, the small six-year-old emerged from the dusty underside of the only bed they could afford. She looked pitiful and helpless in the candlelight coming from the other room, since the door was wide open now, with her hair clinging to her red, tearful face and her small light pink nightgown bunched around her too-small body.

The two-year-old embraced her as soon as she was standing, rubbing her small back and touching her spine lightly in the process, pressing her tearful eyes into her shoulder. The girl with auburn hair let out a sob now, her cry muffled by the other's white bed-shirt. The two stood there for about ten minutes, the older purring sooths of comfort in the other's ear as she slowly calmed down her fearful cries.

"Jackie….I heard your daddy getting mad," she had blown her nose and was now cleaning up her face with her nightgown edge as the two sat on the edge of the bed, "what were they fighting about?"

"I'm not sure…." It was true: She was still confused. But she did know that after they were twelve, they were in danger until they were eighteen.

But she wouldn't tell her little sister figure that, not when she was already upset and freaked out enough. So she kept this new fact to herself, rubbing the younger's back gently and promising it would be okay.

"Mommy and Daddy do you love you, Auburn," she promised softly, and the girl who had the same name as her hair color sniffled.

The truth was the small girl didn't quite feel welcome in the family just yet. Thanks to the Dark Days, she'd lost her father, who was the only family she had left. Her mother had died giving birth to her, and her father was basically her best friend….other than Jackie. When he died, she'd grabbed her teddy bear, nightgown, and her book of bedtime stories and run to her house, unsure of where else to go.

Exactly one month ago was her first night at her best friend's house, and she was still afraid and grieving over her father. He was killed in a bombing, so there was no way for her to see him again because he was in the train car the bomb dropped on, meaning he was blown to bits if not destroyed totally. The six year old didn't think she was loved anymore, and she was struggling to trust again already.

She was just too young to be going through all of this and Jackie knew it, but that was the way it was.

"They do love you, Au," she cooed softly again, running her tiny fingers through her beautiful, shoulder-length hair, "they are just worried 'cause we lost the Dark Days."

"R-really?" her big brown eyes met the slightly older's dark blue ones, and the girl with blonde hair nodded with an assuring smile on her face.

"Really. Now…you need some rest," she pulled the blanket over the two of them now as they both nestled on the rough canvas of the mattress against each other like only best friends/sisters can do, "want me to sing you a lullaby?"

"Please," her voice was soft, showing just how innocent and nice the smaller girl was.

_It's been a long, hard day, _

_And you realize sometimes things don't go your way. _

_But don't you worry, you don't have to cry_

_It's alright now, you're in my arms tonight. _

_When you're lonely, _

_And when you're afraid. _

_Think of me, and hold my the memory close, _

_Until the sun has rose. _

_So wipe your tears, _

_And close your eyes. _

_And until the morning light, _

_Hold onto this lullaby. _

The eight-year-old sang the lullaby her mother sung for her sometimes, her singing voice sounding high and clear in a beautiful way that left you haunted for the better. By the time she got to the last part, her now little sister was asleep, pressed up tightly to her side and clutching her hand tightly, as if saying, _Never let me go_.

"You know…." She whispered in her ear, kissing her temple in a sisterly way, "I always wanted a baby sister."

As the two young children fell asleep against each other, their parents could only watch with happiness and deep sadness. They deserved so much better than this, and yet they were going to be in danger. If not in the Hunger Games in a few years….than who was to say they didn't end up killed or hurt in the dangerous fields?

"My two baby girls…." A tear splattered against each of their pale cheeks that didn't to them as their mother kissed their foreheads, laying beside them with their father getting in last, wrapping his arms around his entire family of what was now four.

He had a feeling that they would be alright, but he couldn't help but worry like his wife. Things were rough….but if anything, he knew his daughters were going to be strong. If anything….he had a feeling at least Jacqueline could survive anything, and then Auburn would be like her.

Yes, they would probably be alright.

But for now, they all needed to sleep….

_And until the morning light, _

_Hold onto this lullaby. _

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Author Note: I hope you guys loved it Jacqueline WAS you, Colemet R and R! :D


	2. Chapter One: I'm Not Going to Win

_**Hold onto this Lullaby 2**_

"Jacqueline-!"

My heart is pounding, even before she finishes reading off my big sister's name. My eyes dart over to her as she stands, seemingly frozen in place, in the fourteen-year-old section. Her face is pale now, and her fists are clenched at her sides tightly. Everyone can hear her breath out heavily, and we all watch her shudder as she steps out of the crowd.

Not her. Not her. _Not her_.

She took care of me a lot with her parents, and she coaxed me to trust so long ago, after I lost my father at age six. It was a horrifying thing for a young girl like me, but now she is going to die, just like I could've without her around to take me in when her parents were hiesatant for another mouth to feed.

_I won't let her die. _

"Jackie!" I screetch out suddenly, making the other twelve year olds stare at me as I run forward, pushing them out the way as I cry, "Jackie...I volunteer! I volunteer as tribute!"

It's only time for the Sixth Annual Hunger Games, and volunteering has only happened a couple of times in the richer districts. It's never happened in a District like mine, and I don't care that I'm kind of making history and that everyone's eyes are on me as I run to my older sister, who is frozen in shock again.

"Auburn...no," she says firmly, yet weakly, and I wrap my arms around her waist, sobbing heavily and clinging to her for dear life.

"Yes! I won't let you die!" I wail out, and realization dawns on both of our faces from the big screens recording live.

She _isn't _going to die.

I am.

* * *

"Why did you do that, Auburn?" tears have soaked my sister-figure's face as grips my shoulders, shaking me a little as she sits down, trembling violently, on the leather of the small couch in the Goodbye Room, "you'll die in the Hunger Games."

"I know, but so would you," I am still sobbing, my breathing heavier as she herself tells me I'm going to die, "I won't let you die."

"I'd rather it be me than you!" she sighs, and I hide my face in hands, just crying it out.

And then I feel her arms around my shaking body, gripping me tightly against her own trembling one. I turn, burying my face in her neck as she grips me tightly, fingers tangled in my hair as I curl up in her lap. We were truly best friends and sisters, and the thought of letting her go now...

It was too overwhelming.

"Hey...maybe you can win," she says softly and shakily, and I just clutch her tighter and close my eyes, never wanting to be without her more than ever, never wanting to be alone.

"I'll try..." but I know I'm probably not going to suceed as I fall asleep.

* * *

When I wake up again, I am laying in a bed on the train, overcome with softness and luxary. It makes me stiff body ache a little, and I sit up instantly, rubbing my eyes frantically. They must have had to carry me here, and I am throughly embarrassed as I inspect myself in the mirror.

I am scrawny, I am emotional, I am terrified, and above all, I am twelve years old.

_Twelve. _

In the last Five Hunger Games, I have seen what happens to twelve year olds. I shudder violently, clutching my knees to my chest. Jackie had a chance; I don't.

She said it best: I am not going to win.

* * *

_**Jackie's P. O. V. **_

_****_Auburn.

Of all the people in Panem, it had to sweet, innocent, fearful little Auburn.

Maybe I could've won if I'd gone in, and maybe we'd all have a chance to live our lives as they were. But she volunteered for me, and now she is going to die. I made this mistake of saying that, though, and now she probably hates me.

_I'm so sorry..._that's all I can think as numbness overtakes me as a substitute for sleep.

* * *

**_Author Note: I wasn't orginally going to continue this, but hey, I liked the story ideas I got from rereading my one-shot :) R and R, and the next update will be longer! :D _**


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